


Lead Me Not

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cliche, Come Eating, Demon Sex, Facials, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Footsie, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Incubus Graves, Light Bondage, M/M, Memory Alteration, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minimal references to Lucifer, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Priest Credence, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Rimming, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, i just love to sin, in my mythos, like vampires, mild salad tossing, then more smut, they need an invite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9244634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Incubus Graves accidentally gets invited into Priest Credence's church late one dark and stormy night...





	

**Author's Note:**

> hhahah so this was something i originally was like nah this is too cliche and dumb, and then i got home from out of town and created 8k of filth so woopsy.
> 
>  
> 
> note, according to lore, incubus's body temperature is typically lower, including the ahem, dirty bits. so there is a small reference to that. but overall, i treat it like the urge for a vampire to feed, so they become mostly hot, except in that one spot.  
> heh.

Credence bowed his head low, until his lips were kissing his palms that he held pressed together in front of his chest, and he could more easily focus on the heartbeats of the earth. Thunderclaps.

Before lightning dazzled the sky, the steady rumble soothed him like no lullaby ever had.

“Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation-”

Before he could properly continue the rhythm of the Lords’ Prayer, an extremely loud crash sounded, and he turned to find the church’s front door slamming open, revealing a tall and broad shouldered figure.

He wasn’t expecting any deacons or other priests that night, mother had told him he would have the entire place to himself for his atonement for the week.

But it appeared she was mistaken.

He rose slowly from his kneeling position at the front of the sanctuary and turned to greet the guest, opening his mouth to inform them that the normal hours of worship had long since passed, and he’s interrupted again by a loud crack of thunder, booming across the sky and seeming to penetrate his very bones.

“Welcome.”

Was all that he could manage. His hands were shaking slightly as he outstretched a hand, desperately hoping the visitor would not notice the tinge of red to the fabric of his cuffs, marring the perfection of his gold and white robes.

“Pardon my intrusion, Father-?”

The voice was low, rough like a country road, and Credence felt an instant calm slide over his body.

Why had he been concerned in the first place?

The man before him stepped closer, into the dim candlelight, as the power had long since been shorted out, and Credence gasped at the sight of so much exposed flesh. Only white linen trousers were clinging to the man’s hips and his chest and arms were bare.

The pants were soaked through, and though Credence should have probably been concerned for the man’s health, his gaze was locked on one thing, and one thing only.

Below his navel and just under the edge of the waistband, there was a definite outline of the man’s shameful hardness. Could it be from the weather?

Could one be aroused by thunderstorms?

“Are you cold sir?”

Credence was already shucking off his outer robe and approaching the man, intent on aiding him, lest he become sick from being soaked from head to toe and clad in such thin fabric. He had only his stole around his neck to protect from the chill, and the front door of the church still was swinging inward with the rough wind, letting rain soil the red carpet.

Almost as if Credence could suddenly control nature with his very thoughts, suddenly the door was swinging out, closing with a slight thud, and leaving only the sound of the distant thunder still groaning in the background.

“Not at all. In fact, I find I’m feverish. I appreciate your concern, Father.”

Credence instantly shrunk away, aware his ruined hands were now staining the shoulders of his robe, so tightly had he been clutching the fabric.

He tossed it aside, over the back of a pew, and tried to smile,

“Of course. I must always be prepared to aid all my flock. Would you like me to-”

Credence was again interrupted, this time by the man approaching with a swift movement that makes him wonder if he blinked and missed a step, and there was a hand on his face, burning into his skin, telling him that his worry of the man catching cold was misplaced.

“You know, you’re beautiful. I could smell you from outside.”

“I, uh, what?”

The man was rubbing a thumb over his bottom lip, and Credence could feel every hair on the back of his neck, arms, and indeed hands beginning to stand up. He knew he should be concerned, somewhat being molested as he was by a total stranger, but he found he was not afraid, nor could he get his feet to obey the command to move, to retreat.

“It’s a shame they keep you so covered up. You probably have no idea…”

The man was eyeing him up and down, Credence could almost feel the weight of his eyes, and he gulped, before the man moved his hand, sliding it down to caress his bare neck and he found himself tilting his head, offering better access, before he could stop himself.

Why did he feel so drawn to this man?

The half naked man who’d come to a church in the middle of a storm, alone?

“Vanity is a sin, sir.”

The man grinned, white teeth stark and glistening in the candlelight that seemed to shimmer over his still damp skin,

“Tell me, should I just call you Father, or do you have a real name?”

Credence swallowed again, the man’s fingers now brushing over his delicate skin and down to his collarbone, slipping beneath the stole and his under shirt,

“Credence, sir.”

“How apt.”

The man was so close, Credence could swear he felt heat radiating off of his bare chest.

There was something bewitching about him, his look, his touch; it was as if Credence was being hypnotized. He could sense that it was wrong, but he didn’t want to stop it.

“Credence, did you know that Angels and Demons can step inside a church if they are welcomed?”

He was already shaking his head, and the man chuckled.

“Well, it’s true. Sort of a loophole.”

Credence was coming to the realization as the man leant closer and grazed his lips along his jaw, making his entire body shudder with the contact.

“Do you know which one I am?”

Credence had an inkling, the second he felt the man’s other hand move around to press against his lower back, driving him into the solid and warm body in front of him, stealing away his breath from his lungs, and the man had only just pulled back his head enough to slide his lips against Credence’s mouth,

“Tell me.”

*

Graves hadn’t really intended to stop here, and he certainly didn’t plan on corrupting a man of god, not on a night when the fire inside of him was at full burn, and he needed to bury himself in a hunk of warm and willing flesh, well, willing was a point of technicality, but nevertheless, churches were dangerous ground.

Hallowed ground often enough.

But then the sweet little morsel clad in gold and white had invited him inside, and he was all alone, weak, and trembling from some sort of pain he tried to mask.

His hands.

Graves made him dizzy and distracted with a kiss, and then reached down with a hand to squeeze one of the ruined palms against his own, bringing it up to his mouth, breaking the kiss to lick a long slow line over the split skin.

The boy, not quite a man, Credence, let out a low gasp as he felt his hand healing, and Graves smirked,

“Does that feel good?”

The boy just nodded, and he might have let his tongue linger a bit longer than necessary, but it was worth it, watching the pulse throb in the boys’ neck and seeing how his lips parted, pupils dilating.

He was probably half hard and didn’t even realize it.

It was like seducing an angel. Far too easy and so very wrong. No wonder it felt so damned good.

“Give me the other.”

Shakily, but obedient, the boy lifted up his other hand cautiously, and Graves captured it in his own, dipping his head down to meet it, letting his eyes close as he kissed and caressed the palm with his mouth.

“You must be an Angel. They are the healers of the world.”

His voice was quiet, soft, and so low that if Graves hadn’t had supernatural abilities, he might not have heard him at all over the storm.

How sweet he was. Thinking the best of him.

“Dear boy, I wish that were so.”

He smiled and bared a little more teeth, intent on overpowering the boy with his glamour if necessary, maybe making him blind with arousal, but if anything, the boy only seemed more intrigued, not frightened.

“You’re a _demon_?”

Graves nodded, and parted his lips only to let his tongue slip out, catching a stray bit of the boy’s blood he’d missed, as it dripped down his wrist.

“Oh.”

Graves let his eyes drop, and he could see the boy was indeed aroused, his white pants betraying him with a tent below his waist.

He wondered how the boy would react if he touched him there.

So he did.

A gasp and fluttering of long lashes against pale cheeks, and a newly healed hand had shot out to grip his arm, squeezing tight.

“Sir… you mustn’t.”

Graves growled, low in his throat,

“Who’s going to stop me Credence? You? I think not.”

His eyes opened lazily almost, and he looked a bit afraid, fear clouding desire,

“This is a house of god…”

Graves smirked,

“Indeed. I intend to have you in it.”

The priest’s eyes only widened for a moment, before Graves touched him more forcefully, fingers wrapping around the boy’s fabric covered erection, and leaning back in to kiss him again.

The hands were firm on his shoulders, but not pushing away, merely holding on, desperate for purchase over slippery bare skin.

*

Credence knew it was wrong. He could not argue his way out of this, or pray the sin away. He was being marked and branded with his crimes against god.

“What say you little lamb? Shall I take you like communion, upon my lips and tongue?”

Before Credence could even stammer a protest, the man was falling to his knees before him, guiding him to step back so that he was leaning right against the hard wood of the end of a pew, and then his large warm hands were tugging down his cotton trousers, baring his wicked evidence of sin to the man’s eyes.

“Oh my, this could hurt a lowly human. Good thing I’m not that.”

The man smirked up at him, before pressing closer, letting go of one of Credence’s hips to bring a hand to the shaft, sliding his mouth over the tip, and nearly making his knees buckle.

“Oh god.”

He brought a hand to his mouth, biting the back of his knuckles to stifle any further blasphemous words, and the man only reached up with his other hand to yank his hand away.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you.”

The man’s mouth returned to him, and he could feel the warm wetness of the demon’s tongue and lips indeed swallowing him down, until the head of his cock met the back of his throat, and Credence surely felt he might die.

This sort of thing was forbidden, much less between two men. Even if one of them only appeared as such.

Why had the demon not appeared to him as a young woman?

Again, the man pulled back and looked up at Credence as if he’d read into his very thoughts.

“I came to you as I am, and the pinnacle of your desires shaped me. Don’t bother lying to yourself. I’m exactly what you want.”

A wink, and then the man was upon him, moving in such a manner as to inspire cries and moans that Credence did not know he was even capable of making when not experiencing pain.

The hand on the base of his cock moved, shifting lower, and touching spots even he had never dared explore. When fingers slipped past his heavy balls to circle the tight ring of muscle protecting his hole, he nearly yelped.

“Sodomy is a sin, sir.”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

The man, well, not exactly that, grinned again, and then pulled his hand back, to stroke harder over Credence’s cock, murmuring words and things he didn’t quite understand, but the coil of heat inside his belly and tingling in his veins was speeding up, and he knew something terrible was about to happen.

“Come on. Make a mess of me, like you’ve always wanted.”

Credence could barely gasp out,

“What? What are you-? Unnngh…”

Ropes of white emerged from the head of his cock to paint the man’s face and chest, and the demon was laughing, giddy from it.

“Oh, good boy.”

The man’s voice seemed to purr, and Credence swore his eyes crossed when the man drew his hand back, fingers dragging over his face to his mouth, tasting the filth.

“What did you do to me?”

Credence finally asked, voice ragged as he fought for breath, unconcerned about his pants around his ankles, and his body half bared to the man still.

“I didn’t do anything _to_ you. I did something _for_ you. Now it’s your turn.”

Credence could barely form a coherent thought, when the man got to his feet again and kissed him, he tasted salt and bitterness. Nothing at all like taking communion, he thought rebelliously.

“I don’t know what-?”

“Turn around.”

Credence obeyed, only out of a strange combination of fear and curiosity, and the man’s large hands braced on his hips but a moment, before he felt him let go with one, and a burning slap was stinging the bare skin of his ass.

He had been too taken by surprise to even react beyond a drop of his jaw.

“Mmm. Perfect. Go down to the front, and get on your knees, face the cross.”

*

Graves could scarcely believe how delicious this little priest was. He stepped out of his pants and shuffled down to the front of the sanctuary and got down in position, not even uttering a word of protest.

He shucked off his own pants, merely a formality and because he suspected appearing completely naked at first might have thrown the priest into some sort of sex-starved coma and then began stalking his prey properly.

“Good boy. You look mouthwatering like this. All spread out in front of god for me to deflower.”

He was exaggerating of course, as the boy’s palms were spread flat in front of him, and were in no way displaying his ass, but he couldn’t quite resist hitting him again.

The boy bucked away from the touch, but didn’t make a sound.

He was used to being hurt.

That much had been evident by his hands.

Graves suddenly wanted to see him naked too.

“Take off your shirt. Give me your stole.”

The boy complied, passing back both items of clothing, and Graves tossed aside the shirt but set the stole to the side. It would be quite useful for restraining him during the second round.

But right now, he just wanted to defile the priest in front of the pulpit.

“Please, sir, don’t hurt me.”

“Oh my dear boy, I’m not going to do a thing you won’t like. Trust me.”

Cooing wasn’t usually his style, but this priest seemed in nervous need, unaware of how much he really wanted a good fucking.

He drew his hand down the boy’s spine, and relished the way he shivered beneath his fingers.

He stopped only when he moved down between the boy’s asscheeks and then dipped a finger in just to the first knuckle, noting how his breathing slowed, and he seemed to be trying to focus on not reacting.

“Shh-hh, now. Promise you won’t cry?”

“Yes sir.”

The boy hiccupped, and Graves suspected he’d long since stopped that sort of thing under duress, and merely was not used to being touched so kindly.

Except for the spanking.

“Not to worry, I’m not cruel.”

He snapped his fingers, and with a puff of smoke, there appeared a small clear jar beside the boy’s ankle, and Graves reached to retrieve it.

It held plenty of slick for two or three uses, and so he dipped two fingers inside, stroked over his own cock, hoping the fever had more than spread to it, to prevent even further shock, and then applied his fingers to the boy’s tight ass.

A few moments passed before he could easily insert and manipulate both fingers inside of him, and the boy remained still and silent the entire time.

That just wouldn’t do.

“How are you feeling?”

Before the boy could reply, Graves withdrew his slicked fingers, and then reached out to smack the left cheek, making him jump.

“Fine… sir.”

“Enough of that. Call me Graves. I want my name on your tongue when you come again. Understood?”

The boy nodded, before giving his words,

“Yes sir, Mister Graves.”

Another smack of his ass.

“Just Graves. No formalities. I’m not some stuck up Angel now, am I?”

“N-no, Graves.”

He smirked,

“Good. Now. Hold on tight, I’m putting my cock in you next.”

Maybe he wasn’t cruel, but he was impatient, and so he didn’t push in that slowly, not when the tightness and hot grip on his cock was almost without mercy, and he leaned over the boy’s slim body just to place a kiss between those sharp shoulder blades.

“Tell me how it feels.”

The boy was shuddering under his grasp, and when he slipped a hand under to palm at the boy’s softened cock, he found it was already half hard again.

Delightful.

He thumbed over the head, eliciting a reluctant gasp from the priest.

“It feels… good, Graves.”

“Why do you hesitate?”

 He purred back, and the boy shook his head,

“Because this is immoral.”

“Why? Because we’re in a church? And I’m desecrating the holy ground? Hmm?”

The boy, Credence, shook his head again.

“Because man is not to lie with man, not as he would a woman.”

Graves clucked his tongue, and then moved down to apply it to the boy’s neck, marking him with a kiss and nip, snaring another surprised sound from his throat.

“But why should that concern you? I’m already condemned, you can still seek penance. Don’t worry so much my boy, it’ll all be over soon.”

He snapped his hips back and forward, and saw the boy’s knuckles turn white, before he chuckled.

It didn’t take long for the boy to wring his first orgasm from him, and he couldn’t resist pulling out to paint his bare back with his spend.

There were numerous crisscrossing scars over the pale skin, and the second his come landed on the skin, glistening slightly, he heard the boy sigh.

He knew exactly what had happened.

“Hold still.”

He just wanted a moment to savor the sight, before he reached out to wipe it away, using a touch more of his power, cleaning and healing the expanse of the boy’s back with one move.

“Get on your back.”

“But the floor…”

The boy protested, and Graves rolled his eyes, and spanked him again. He jumped, and then hurried to comply, almost looking puzzled as he lay down, as if wondering where the mess had gone.

Graves held up a hand and waggled his fingers.

“Power of darkness, remember?”

If he didn’t know better, he’d say the boy blushed.

His cock was still hard, curving up to his chest, and smearing wetness on his stomach.

Credence looked stunning, and could probably bring any angel _or_ demon to their knees at the sight of his wide eyes and teeth worried pink lips.

*

Credence wasn’t sure why he hadn’t cut and run yet, but he found himself shaking with the revelation that perhaps he _did_ want what was to happen next.

There was never going to be enough lord’s prayers to help erase the sin he was currently committing.

The man was going to have him again, and the instant cool fingers slippery with something made contact with his cock, he couldn’t help arching his back and closing his eyes.

That had not been the place he’d expected to be touched.

“You look so wound up my boy. Can’t have that.”

The man, Graves, leaned over him, framing his face with both arms, before lowering down to kiss him swiftly, so rough he swore his teeth drew blood from his lips, before his tongue swiped it away.

“Mmm, innocence tastes so good.”

Graves moved back to wink at him, before applying more slick to his cock, which Credence fought the urge to stare at, and lost promptly.

It had felt like a lot, and indeed, was more wide than his own, even if a bit shorter. There was a sinful center inside of him, and when Graves had been moving against him and indeed, _in_ him, he swore his heart fluttered every time the man’s cock brushed over that spot.

“You’re going to come this time too, I promise.”

Graves sounded almost concerned, and Credence was confused. For a sex motivated demon, he had a strange sort of set of priorities.

He didn’t even feel a twinge of pain when Graves lined up to thrust back into him, and he barely registered the man’s hands on his legs, until he was lifting them up, and setting them atop his shoulders.

“What? Why-?”

Graves bit his bottom lip and groaned, before answering,

“Feels better for us both, trust me.”

Credence should have said ‘Never’ but instead he felt the man’s cock hitting against him, just right, so he merely sighed.

His own cock was throbbing, aching with the need to be touched, having quite recovered since being inside Graves’ mouth, and Credence fisted his hands, nails digging painfully into his palms to keep from taking it in his own hand.

“Touch yourself.”

The man’s voice had a commanding edge, and he couldn’t disobey.

Credence reluctantly reached down to slowly stroke at his cock, but it wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t help moving faster, matching the speed and timing of Graves’ thrusting, until he was blissfully drowning, pulled under by the immense pleasure of being filled and feeling taken.

This time when Graves came, he didn’t pull out of Credence, and he could almost feel the warmth inside of him, slowly begin to leak away when he did move back.

“Oh pretty, pretty boy. What a vision you are.”

Credence could feel a flush of shame overtaking his body, and though tears stung his eyes, he would not give into them. He wrapped his arms around himself, and tried to ignore the disgusting mess covering him, the stain of sin, inside and out.

“No, no. Stop that.”

To his horror, he realized too late that he’d squeezed his eyes shut and a tear had escaped to burn a cold trail down his cheeks.

Graves’ hand was on his face, his palm warm against his skin, his thumb wiping away the tear.

“You’ve ruined me. I am a whore now. Useless, and not what god intended.”

Graves hummed low in his throat, and then was leaning down, putting his mouth on Credence’s chest, his tongue working him over, cleaning up his own spilled seed.

“Not at all my boy. You’re far from that. You’ve been a delight. I can help you, you know. Aid you. Let me. Please?”

Credence was still shaking, but felt less cold, and he didn’t know how to answer, especially not when the man continued down his body, a brief kiss pressing into his softening shame, and then lower, until he was truly cleaned, even if by a demon.

“What do you mean?”

Graves was towering over him, standing tall and extending a hand down, which he only looked at for a moment before taking, allowing himself to be yanked back to his feet.

The man snapped his fingers, and there was a flash of grey smoke, the smell of brimstone, and Credence looked down at himself, seeing his body returned to proper clothing, every inch of his gold and white robes spotless.

His stole was around his neck properly, and it covered the marks that he knew Graves had left on his skin, even if he’d healed his hands.

“I mean, you don’t even have to remember a thing, but helping a poor stranger in need. Do you want that?”

A warm hand cupped his chin, forcing him to meet the man’s gaze, and Credence found himself nodding. He was already prepared to beg forgiveness from god, and if the sin could be erased from his mind, he knew he would have less guilt.

“Very well.”

Two fingers pressed into his temples, and darkness enveloped his sight, as his body went limp.

Dimly he remembered being caught in the middle of fainting, but when he opened his eyes to find himself staring at the ceiling he couldn’t think of how or why he got there.

 

He was lying on a pew.

He turned his head, and found a man with a sharply cut suit and blue silk scarf watching him. He had dark eyes framed by heavy brows, and hair with silver on the sides above his ears.

He was handsome, and a jolt of something Credence couldn’t name slid down his spine. He sat up abruptly, and the man cocked a brow at him,

“You all right?”

He nodded,

“What happened?”

The man smiled, gently, but with a hint of white teeth,

“You fainted at the end of the service. Dehydration, I’d guess.”

But it was storming… Credence looked further, past the man’s shoulders, to see bright sunshine showering over everything, and there were no lit candles, just the usual overhead lights.

“What day is it?”

“Sunday, afternoon.”

Credence nodded. Of course.

The third Sunday of the month was his turn to preach.

“Would you like a lift home? Everyone else has gone.”

“Even mother…?”

Of course she would have left him behind in the state he was in.

He winced at himself, rudely thinking of her that way.

She wasn’t heartless, not really.

“Everyone. I usually get a bit of lunch after service myself; you’re welcome to join me, unless you have to be somewhere very soon?”

Credence looked back to the man and shook his head,

“Not at all sir. I would greatly appreciate it. I can’t remember the last time I had something to eat.”

The man extended a hand, helping Credence to his feet, before smiling again, a bit wider that time,

“No sirs around here. I’m Percival Graves. You can call me Percy if you like.”

Credence blinked, and then smiled back,

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Father Credence.”

“How apt.”

Something about the words was familiar, but Credence couldn’t pin it down. He just smiled wider, and the man ushered him out the doors of the church to his parked car, the only one in the parking lot.

It was a bright red mustang.

“Wow. That’s a nice um, car you’ve got there.”

Mister Graves, Percy, chuckled lightly,

“It’s just always been my favorite color, I couldn’t resist.”

Credence had never driven or ridden in something so nice, and he almost felt afraid to lay his hands on the interior, the black leather, for too long.

“You can’t hurt it you know. Go ahead, touch it.”

Percy snagged on of his hands from his lap, startling him, and dragged it towards the dashboard, which was also covered in the buttery smooth blackness.

“Oh.”

“So, what’s your poison, American, Italian, or maybe Thai?”

Credence gulped, and looked over at the man with a furrow to his brow,

“What?”

The man, Percy, smiled again,

“What kind of food do you prefer?”

“Oh.”

He’d never had a choice before.

“Um, American?”

Percy nodded, as if thinking about what fell into that category that he knew of nearby,

“There’s a diner that’s right by my house. Excellent tomato soup and grilled cheese. Sound good?”

Credence was already nodding.

Anything but cabbage stew or watered down clam chowder would be an improvement.

Inside the chrome walled restaurant, he followed Percy to a booth in the corner, and felt very out of place in his robes, and he hoped the man wouldn’t notice the redness in his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?”

So much for that.

“Oh I just… forgot to change out of my… uh,”

Percy nodded,

“Not to worry. I think you look pretty… professional in that getup. I’m sure you get lots of orphans coming up to you, asking for your blessing.”

The way he said it sounded mocking, but there was only kindness in the man’s eyes, so Credence smiled a bit.

When Percy had given the waitress both their orders, and she returned so fast Credence wondered if he’d fallen asleep or drifted off, but then they were alone again, and the man was asking him something.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said, did you want to bless the food, or should I?”

Credence licked his lips then nodded,

“Of course, yes, I will.”

He reached out a hand, and Percy quickly took it in his own, making Credence’s heart skip a beat when the man’s thumb rubbed over the back of his knuckles, and he stuttered his words a little.

The second he finished the man let go of him to pick up his own spoon for his soup, but Credence felt as if his touch had burned into his skin.

His hands might have shook for a moment or two afterwards, but then Percy was asking him questions, pointed questions about the church, and he answered almost on autopilot in between bites.

“Is it true you can never marry or have a family of your own?”

That question made Credence nearly choke on his sip of iced tea, and he took a moment to collect his thoughts before replying.

“Not exactly. It depends on the sect of faith. For me personally, yes. It is easier to control unnatural desires when one marries oneself to god instead.”

He smiled slightly, and tried to pretend he trusted his words, but somehow, being in Percy’s presence, he was feeling less and less sure about his vows.

“That’s too bad. What do you mean by unnatural? Sinful? I didn’t think priests had desires.”

Credence hastened to correct,

“Before coming to the church, I was living in sin, as we all do, until we meet god. I had many things to atone for and to leave behind, and those were among them.”

“Ah. I suppose that’s understandable. If you’re happy, good for you.”

Credence didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just began to eat in earnest. He hadn’t been prepared for just how overwhelmingly good everything tasted, even if there was a little too much cream in the soup or butter on the bread, and he couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his mouth from his third bite and spoonful of each.

“All right there?”

Percy was staring at him, and Credence felt his cheeks heat again.

“I apologize. I’m not usually…”

He trailed off, unsure how to explain.

“Granted such delicious bounty by the lord?”

Percy quipped, and Credence blinked, stunned at the casual blasphemy, but he nodded still.

The man chuckled, and then shrugged,

“Seems like you need to get out more _Father_.”

The use of his title was deliberate, and teasing, if he didn’t know any better. Of course, he didn’t, but he certainly wasn’t ignorant to manners of flirtation, and Credence hardly dared imagine a man like Percy would do such a thing to him.

Until he was halfway through his sandwich and he felt something nudge at his foot.

At first he thought he’d accidentally bumped a table leg, but the pressure continued, dragging up his pant leg, so that he could feel warmth seeping into the skin of his calf. He found himself holding his breath, and he snuck a glance at Percy, who was staring casually out the window, nibbling at his own remaining crust of bread.

He gulped.

Maybe he was going crazy.

Consumed with improper feelings for a man he’d just met.

“Everything tasting all right?”

The waitress was back, and he could only nod, numbly, as the foot on his leg continued to stroke, slow and gentle, but insistent.

“Very good, thank you. Feel free to bring me the check whenever you have a moment.”

Percy was saying, and Credence returned to the present as if breaking the surface of a body of water.

“Wait, I can’t let you do that, I-”

Percy smiled slightly, only half of his mouth quirking up,

“Not at all. It’s my pleasure.”

Credence barely let himself think it, but he wondered if it really _would be_.

*

Graves could hardly believe how well it was going, this other scenario he’d always wanted to play out with a victim. With a piece of prey.

Of course, double dipping could be called greedy, but what did he care? Condemned already. Might as well have some fun with it.

Seducing a priest without even showing a hint of skin that wouldn’t normally be revealed was startlingly easy, unless it was just this priest in particular who was susceptible to his charms.

Oh yes.

He played the part of casually rich gentleman with ease, and the second Credence climbed back in his car, there was no question, he was going to drive them to his place.

Even as he made up a half assed excuse, as in, some books he needed to get rid of and would be happy to donate to the church library, and Credence couldn’t argue with such charity, oh no.

The house he had sprung from a rundown shack into something modest and cute, and the inside was welcoming and homey, and even he found himself swelling with pride as Credence stepped up and looked, staring as if hypnotized.

‘Not yet’ he thought to himself with a smirk.

“You live here? How long?”

Graves wasn’t prepared for a question like that,

“About six months. I just moved here.”

“Where from?”

“New York City.”

He tossed out easily, and the priest nodded.

“I can’t imagine what would make you leave, I mean, unless you were determined to turn from sin.”

Graves blinked, and then stepped closer, the priest unaware of the advancement, still staring at the shelves of books flanking the opposite wall.

“What’s what?”

Credence turned around, and his eyes widened slightly when he noticed Graves was nearly upon him, and he retreated gracefully by a step, before running into the edge of the brown leather couch,

“Uh, the city is a hive of inequity and temptation.”

How ironic.

“Is that right? And the country is perfectly clean?”

He let his gaze drop to Credence’s lips, and the boy’s tongue slipped out to wet them unconsciously,

“Some might say, the concentration of churches is unmatched in any suburban location.”

“I see.”

He didn’t, but he was emboldened by the priest’s seeming surrender or at least momentary confusion, so he pressed closer, forcing Credence to almost lean backwards,

“Tell me Father, is there any hope for a sinner like me?”

He saw Credence’s throat bob as he swallowed, and he could almost hear the skittering of his heartbeat,

“Wh-what have been your recent sins?”

Graves smirked,

“You want to do confession? Here? Now?”

Credence shrugged slightly, and seemed as if he might fall if he tried to shrink upon himself any further, so Graves reached out, and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him flush to his body, ripping a gasp from his lips,

“I think we’re past all that, don’t you?”

He couldn’t help growling, but he could feel his mouth watering, remembering the taste of the boy’s skin beneath his tongue, and he wanted him again, _badly._

“I don’t know what you mean Mister Graves…”

“I told you, call me Percy.”

*

That was the last thing the man said before completely invading Credence’s space, pressing a hot and fierce kiss to his mouth, stealing any protests and breath from his lungs.

Credence could feel a strong hand splayed against his lower back, hot on his skin even through the many layers of fabric of his robes and shirt, and he swore his heart stopped beating as he let himself melt into the kiss, wicked as it was to even surrender to.

His eyes closed and he leaned up, trying to push back, trying to encourage the man to stop, but instead it seemed to spur him on further, and he could feel a hand cupping his face, the same thumb that had touched his hand earlier during the prayer now stroking his cheek.

There was a heavy and hard _something_ nudging against his thigh, with their bodies so close, and Credence realized with a jolt what it had to be, and he felt goose bumps erupt over his skin, and the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Wait, stop, this is wrong.”

He finally broke the kiss with a firm push of his hands against the man’s chest.

They were both panting for air.

“Really? Because your cock says differently.”

Credence glanced down at his groin in horror to find the man was right, in a way; he was being deceived by his own body.

“I, uh, we…”

Percy chuckled, low and gravely in his throat, and the sound seemed to send a shock of something hot to Credence’s middle,

“Tell me you want to leave, and we can walk out that door right now.”

He was pointing out, to the front drive where the bright red car was parked, and Credence could feel the words trying to crawl up his throat and tickle his tongue.

But they didn’t come.

“Hmm?”

Percy was in front of him, close, too close for him to think, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate.

Instead he felt hands at the sides of his neck, and his stole was being pushed aside in favor of those hands touching on his skin, tickling and tempting him.

“Never got to use one of these before… how pretty you’d look tied up and begging for mercy, don’t you think?”

Credence gulped and opened his eyes to find twin black holes staring down at him from the man’s eyes, and he found the wrong words leaving his mouth.

“Yes, please.”

The same hands were then upon him, pulling him close for a knee weakening kiss, and Credence was trying to formulate a response, to find words that he should have said.

Next thing he knew, the man was helping him out of his gold and white robes, tossing them aside to continue undressing him, and Credence could only shove a hand through his hair, tugging just hard enough to ensure he wasn’t dreaming, before returning his eyes to Percy.

“What did you do to me at the diner?”

The man smirked over at him, now applying his dangerous hands to his own shirtfront, and as every inch of skin was bared, Credence found himself unable to look away.

“I didn’t do a thing to you. You’ve come here willingly, and you can leave at any time, of your own free will.”

Credence squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head,

“Not that. I mean, when you touched me under the table. With your foot.”

Percy chuckled,

“Oh you felt that?”

Credence snapped his eyes open, mouth gaping,

“How could I not? It wasn’t an accident?”

Percy shook his head, now pushing his trousers and underwear down with one move, revealing his entire body to Credence’s gaze, and he could not look away now, not even if God himself were to appear and order him to.

“Oh he won’t. He’s not nearly that much of a buzz kill.”

Credence was still staring,

“What?”

Percy smirked,

“Sorry, when you think really loudly, I can’t help but catch those thoughts.”

There was a hand caressing the side of his face and down, fingers tracing heated paths over his collarbone and neck, and over his chest.

“Now, I think this will do nicely, lift your arms.”

Percy was holding his stole with his other hand, and the second after he started looping it around Credence’s wrists, he felt his heart swoop down into his stomach.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t be scared, it won’t hurt.”

Percy kissed the side of his cheek, and then nipped down the line of his jaw before returning his large hands to Credence’s body, sending a shiver down his spine.

“But, you, you made it so I can’t leave now? This isn’t right…”

Percy sighed,

“My boy, all you have to do is ask, and I will untie you. Go on now, try it. Say, ‘ _untie me demon._ ’”

Credence’s jaw dropped again, and he barely felt when the man nipped his teeth against his collarbone and then licked over the spot.

“What? You’re a _demon_?”

Percy hummed against his skin and then kept going, continuing to mark him with his teeth and kiss and lick the pain away,

“I’m that and so much more. What, did you think it was luck that brought someone like me to your church? In the middle of buck ass nowhere?”

Credence was too aroused to protest, for Percy had just dropped a hand down to touch his painfully hard cock with a brush of fingers, and he found himself bucking up against it, desperate for more.

“Mmm, someone’s eager. Aren’t you Father?”

Credence couldn’t help the wince that twisted over his face,

“Please don’t call me that. I’m no longer worthy of such a title.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that? Because I’ve corrupted you? I haven’t even done anything yet…”

Credence could feel his heart beating in his chest, even as the words sunk in.

For some reason, he didn’t trust them.

“Good boy. Maybe I didn’t get all of it. I did try.”

Credence blinked,

“Get all of what?”

Percy smirked and then stroked his hand over Credence’s cock a bit rougher, causing him to gasp,

“Our first encounter of course. Oh you were a bad, bad boy. But so sweet.”

Percy kissed him again, not quite swallowing all of his questions, and Credence couldn’t help the whimper that escaped him when a thumb swiped over the slick head of his cock.

“Beg for me.”

The man was saying, and Credence let out a shaky breath, before shaking his head.

“No. I won’t. You can’t hurt me. You like me too much.”

Percy cocked a brow at him,

“Wanna bet?”

Credence’s eyes widened, and he barely clamped his lips shut before a wave of pleasure washed over him, and he looked down to find that Percy had actually let go of him, so he had no idea what was driving the sensation.

“This is just a taste of what I can do. I didn’t use it on you last time, because I wanted it to be real. It was. _Real_ ly delightful. But I don’t need to fuck you to make you come, over, and over again. Then you’ll be begging me to stop.”

Percy held up a hand, and Credence saw him merely bend a couple fingers towards his palm, before another wave was wracking over his body, stemming from deep inside, a secret spot that had never before been touched.

Unless… it had.

He didn’t have to look down to know his cock was weeping openly against his stomach, throbbing with need, and he tried to draw breath before another blinding shudder of arousal made him double over, and he could hardly see through the white haze fogging his vision.

When he blinked it away, he realized that he had come, untouched, made a mess of his stomach and thighs, and Percy was kneeling on the end of the bed, still naked, and still looking at him with a mix of smugness and disappointment.

“Why would you do this to me?”

Credence managed to croak out, still tingling slightly over his entire body, wrists and hands going slightly numb from being held over his head for so long and through such strenuous activity.

“Why? It’s what I do. I’m an incubus. I seek pleasure and give it to those I deem worthy. That’s you right now. I’m so tempted by you, I came for seconds. So did you, now that I think about it. You could have said no. Could have walked home. But you didn’t!”

Credence shook his head, trying to override the truth that was threatening to choke him.

The demon was right, and he knew it. He mindlessly addicted to sinning, and highly attracted to the outer form of the creature, evil as it might have been.

“Not evil. Natural. Stop thinking of yourself as damned. We were all angels once.”

Percy looked strained, and almost sad, and Credence swallowed,

“I’m sorry. I forgot about that.”

“Not like I ever can. Would you like to see?”

Credence just nodded, unsure as to what he was agreeing to, and the man turned, revealing two huge scars running from one shoulder blade down to the middle of his back.

His jaw dropped.

“What is that?”

Percy shifted around,

“It’s where my wings were. When we fell, following _him,_ you know, Lucifer? We all forfeited them. So we have power over humans, oh yes, but, we can never fly again.”

Credence felt a wave of pity wash over him, chasing away the final aftershocks of the created orgasm,

“I’m so sorry. I can sort of imagine what that’s like. Not flying of course, but feeling trapped.”

Percy shifted closer, and brought a hand to his face again, this time the touch far more innocent,

“How so dear boy?”

Credence gulped,

“The faith was all I ever had. I didn’t get a choice. I had to spend my entire life atoning for the sins of my birth mother.”

“Oh no, that’s not right at all. Your life is your own and you should live it. Not be smothered under robes belonging to something you don’t even know if you trust.”

Credence licked his lips, and glanced away, finding himself nodding.

“Sorry to get so damn depressing and philosophical. Mind if I fuck you now?”

Credence wasn’t quite dizzy from the words as much as the sudden topic shift, but he found himself swallowing and nodding again.

“Perfect. You really are.”

Percy leaned in to kiss him, before snapping his fingers, and conjuring something out of thin air from a poof of smoke.

*

Graves was lost.

Truly and totally gone for the miles of pale skin and messy dark hair that encompassed Credence, the _not quite_ man of god.

Oh he hadn’t done all the work, no, his truth, his origins, had turned the tides completely in his favor, and it almost didn’t matter.

Another notch on his endless bedpost of victims, and it felt hollow.

The only thing that felt good and true was being inside him, and feeling the heat and seeing the delirium in the boy’s eyes as pure bliss took him over, and Graves didn’t have to use an ounce of power for that.

He touched the boy’s body, and kissed him as tenderly as he could, even while being driven mad by the energy that consumed him any time he had any amount of sex and the instant he could feel his own climax rushing over him, he held still completely, and put a hand to Credence’s own neglected cock.

“Oh god.”

The boy gasped as he came, just a few seconds of stroking and a mindless bite to his neck here and there, and Graves grinned into his skin.

“Good boy.”

He finally let himself go after that, and fucked the boy so hard he’d possibly limp a little for the next few days, even after being healed.

He untied him and the boy somewhat collapsed into his arms, shaky but quite clearly happy as he could be.

“What happens now? You return me, and then find someone else to… seduce?”

“Yes well, that is sort of my job.”

Graves felt like he was swallowing holy water admitting that, and he swore he could feel the boy flinch.

“Sounds like a lot of fun.”

“It can be.”

“Have you ever done this? You know, lived as a human for any amount of time?”

Graves snorted,

“And what, give up my incredible powers and general badassery?”

Credence looked over at him, from where he was somewhat pressed against the side of his chest, and shrugged,

“Can you?”

He could guess what the boy was getting at before he even dipped into his mind.

“I mean, I could yeah.”

“Like taking a vacation. When you died, you’d just go back to hell and start all over again, right?”

It sounded really good, and was highly tempting.

Graves licked his lips and reached over to push back a stray lock of dark hair from the boy’s sweaty forehead,

“Are you asking me to live for you?”

“I think so, yeah. Do you want to?”

Graves found that, yes, he did.

“For you, my boy, I’d try anything.”

*

**END**

 

 

 


End file.
